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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29646507">not too great an artist (for you i'd probably try)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsu_kei_shima/pseuds/tsu_kei_shima'>tsu_kei_shima</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Lowercase, M/M, Nonbinary Konoha Akinori, Pining, Pre-Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:55:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29646507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsu_kei_shima/pseuds/tsu_kei_shima</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>akinori watches their muse in his natural element. yamato makes a new vase.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Konoha Akinori/Sarukui Yamato</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>not too great an artist (for you i'd probably try)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i tweeted about ceramicist sarukui and writer konoha and i couldn't sleep until i wrote something about them</p>
<p>the title is from probably! by ritt momney. listen to it and other songs on my <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3gQ1trfzstVLt4BlOEgNXv?si=Geol6efwQgStuQE94smpQg">konosaru playlist</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>akinori watches yamato, sat around the pottery wheel, crafting his newest piece. his hands are spattered with clay, gray sticking on deep tan skin, and he looks like rich earth taken fresh from a riverbank, like akinori could dig their hands into him and come out with sand and dirt and clay.</p>
<p>his eyes are focused, hands moving effortlessly, guiding the shape, dripping water from a sponge, adding more clay. it makes them dizzy, like they're the clay stuck on the wheel, spinning and spinning and spinning, nothing around them coherent except for yamato's hands.</p>
<p>akinori grabs their journal from their bag. they pull out a pencil, deciding that they want the scratch of graphite on paper; they want gray on tan, far too different from the shades they're focused on but close enough that it aches more than blue ink.</p>
<p>they write, feverish and quick and desperate, everything yamato isn't at the moment. they write about how they wished wide, dark hands would ground them, how much they wanted to feel the cool water running off his hands, dripping down his forearms, trailing sediment, mixing with sweat.</p>
<p>they shift uncomfortably in their seat, growing warmer the more they let their thoughts drift. they want yamato to treat them like something formless, like something that needs refinement, like something he might make beautiful. they feel formless, in need of refining, just shy of beautiful.</p>
<p>his eyes drift off the spinning table, find theirs, and linger for a moment. a soft grin pulls at his lips. "you look a little sweaty," he comments.</p>
<p>akinori wants to tell him that it's all his fault, that the heat of the room is nothing compared to the way he makes their blood run hot and their heart beat harder.</p>
<p>"it's hot as balls," they say instead.</p>
<p>"you don't have to sit with me, y'know," he says, like akinori has a choice in anything regarding him; like yamato hasn't drenched them, molded them, is just shy of putting them in the furnace to burn the shape of him into them forever.</p>
<p>"I like writing here," they say, "it's got a nice atmosphere."</p>
<p>yamato purses his lips, then nods. better that he doesn't ask, akinori thinks. because how do they explain that any place where yamato is has a nice atmosphere? that akinori is constantly pulling out their journal around him because he's the only thing that makes words flow out of them, like water from a dripping sponge, gripped between long, thick fingers?</p>
<p>he returns to his work. akinori returns to their thoughts: deep and dark and spiraling.</p>
<p>once the vase has found its final shape, yamato begins pouring the thin glaze on it. akinori had asked, once, why sarukui used this particular glaze so often. yamato had answered that it was actually his dad's favorite, because it matched the color of his husband's eyes, and now, the color of his son's too.</p>
<p>akinori understands that. the word 'celadon' is burned into their memory, etched into their soul, bonded to their being. they're branded, they belong to a sarukui, even if nobody knows it.</p>
<p>the kiln won't be used today but akinori will be burnt all the same.</p>
<p>yamato sets the vase aside to dry, then heads to the sink. he scrubs his hands clean, akinori watches as the water goes dark with the remnants of his work and then runs clear again. he peels off the tank top he's wearing, and akinori can't look away from him, can't tear their eyes away from the wide expanse of his exposed back. he grabs a towel, pats himself dry, then pulls a fresh t-shirt on.</p>
<p>akinori tears their eyes away to quickly shut their journal and return it to their bag, yamato turning around as they're tucking everything into place.</p>
<p>"alright, ready to head in?" he asks. akinori nods, standing and putting their bag over their shoulder.</p>
<p>"do you have lemonade?"</p>
<p>"of course. i know it's your favorite."</p>
<p>akinori wants to tell him they'd drink the water he uses for his pottery if he offered it to them. they'd let him drip it into their mouth from the sponge if that was the only way he'd give it to them.</p>
<p>"you're really lame."</p>
<p>"drink the sink water then, jackass."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading &lt;3 kudos and comments are appreciated</p>
<p>talk to me on <a href="https://twitter.com/tsu_kei_shima">twitter</a> or <a href="https://tsu-kei-shima.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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